Tally's Take · a guest piece
A Girl's Guide to Beer
Beer. It's always been in my life even when I didn't realize it was — quietly in the background, adding punctuation marks to my memory.
by Cathy Dadson
Author and freelance writer — and Tally's sister.
Carrying a Labatt's Blue bottle up the ladder as an 8 year old kid while my dad hammered roof shingles on our house; handing it to him all proud of myself for not being afraid of heights or falling off the ladder. Seeing the smile on his face as he offered me a sip only to laugh at the face I made over the taste.
Going to the cottage with Grandpa and watching him play horseshoes at a yearly meetup with the guys. Watching him reluctantly accept the offered Molson 50 can even though he disliked beer immensely. He was more of a rye guy.
It amused me that two very pivotal men in my life had very different takes on beer. Why did one love it and the other despise it?
As I grew, the teenage years turned into parties and gatherings where beer flowed. I didn't know the difference between brands. That wasn't the point. I just drank the beer to be one of the crowd. Bottle Pong and Solo Cup cap games were fun. It was a rite of passage so to speak.
As a young bar maid, I was introduced to “draft” beer. Basically water with a bit of hops if you asked me. But it was sold cheap by the pint or the pitcher and I noticed a lot of seniors would come in during the afternoons and order one to sip on while reminiscing about days gone by. I wondered if any of them ever played horseshoes.
Cue the song Piano Man by Billy Joel.
Over the years, I've tried many different types of beer. Some still exist while many others no longer do. I learned the difference between an Ale and a Lager, an IPA and industrial brands. Canned vs bottled, to which I will admit to being a bottle girl. I am one of the genetically rare breed who can actually taste the aluminum metal of the can leached into the beer.
Being Irish in ancestry (McFadden), I have tried to drink the dark brew. Many times and many brands. Unfortunately, my American palate does not allow my tastebuds to accept such vile shock to the system. My ancestors scowl down from above, I'm sure.
I have to say that I prefer the German wheat beer by Weiss — Erdinger. By far my favourite, with a bit of sweet and absolutely zero aftertaste.
Aftertaste. That's what I think beer boils down to; the feeling it leaves in the back of your tongue after you finish a sip. The memories it evokes. Summer ladders, cottage get-togethers, teenage laughter or bar nights with friends cheering on the game.
The pursuit of that aftertaste has morphed over time into a distinguished palate that knows the differences between beers. Yearning to explore the possibilities and remember the greats. Just don't fall off the ladder!
— Cathy Dadson